throws his handkerchief over his face, and falls asleep.)

Snowball. Dar, de old man gwine for Morphine.

Precise. My vote was “Guilty,” and of course I belong with the party on the right.

O’Rourke. Thrue for yez, honey; and ye’ll find it the party that’s always right, jist.

Snowball. Hold yer hush, hold yer hush!

O’Rourke. Vat’s that, ye heathen? I’d jist like to pound that thick pate till I had yer spachless——so I would. Begorra, ye’d cry Guilty then.

Timorous. O, come, let’s have peace.

O’Rourke. Pace, is it? Ye’ve had a pace of my mind, onyhow.

Precise. No quarrelling, gentlemen. The quicker we decide this case the better. The government has charged one Peter Popgun with an attempt to defraud the revenue of the manufacturer’s tax on gunpowder. Its secret agents, suspecting said Popgun, made a descent upon his establishment, which is a country store, seized certain articles, such as saltpetre, sulphur, and charcoal, which they found in a certain little back shop, said articles being, in their opinion, used by said Popgun in the manufacture of gunpowder. The said Popgun denies the manufacture of gunpowder, and sets up a defence that the said articles are used by him in concocting a certain patent medicine, known as the “Medical Dead Shot.” Evidence has been produced on both sides. We have been charged to bring in a verdict on the evidence alone. I am quite convinced, by the testimony, that said Popgun did manufacture gunpowder, and evade the tax. Still, I should like to hear a free expression of opinion.

All (jumping up). Mr. Foreman.

Precise. Stop, stop. One at a time.

All. Yes, yes; one at a time, Mr. Foreman.

Precise. Stop, stop, I say. We can never settle it in this way.

Strongfist. Of course we can’t. Let us six fight the other six. That will settle it.

O’Rourke. True for yez. A fray fight. I’m wid yer. (About to remove his coat.)

Precise. Silence. There can be no fighting here. You all want to speak. I will call upon each juror, giving both sides equal advantages of time and opportunity. Is not that fair?

All. Certainly. Of course. Go on. Go on.

Precise. Very well. I will first call upon Mr. Timorous.

Timorous (rising). Mr. Foreman, and gentlemen of the jury. (Very low.) I rise——I may say——yes, I rise——

O’Rourke. Louder.

Strongfist. Speak up like a man.

Timorous. I said——I rise——to say, if I may say——I rise to say——

O’Rourke. O, be jabbers, you’re all out to say.

(The party on the L., with the exception of Paunch, rise indignantly.) Mr. Foreman, Mr. Foreman!

Precise (pounds on table). Silence! Order, gentlemen, order.

Blower. Mr. Foreman, this attempt of the party on the right to intimidate the party on the left is unjust.

Punster. Far from being righteous or courteous.

Snowball. Am we jurors, or am we not jurors? I ax you?

Precise. The interruption shall not occur again. Go on, Mr. Timorous.

Timorous. If you please, Mr. Foreman, I only rose to say——that, if I might be allowed to say it——that——I’ve got nothing to say.

Party on right. Shame! Humbug! Put him out!

Precise. Order, gentlemen.——Have you no reason to give for your vote of “Not guilty”?

Timorous. O, yes; lots. I voted “Guilty,” no, “Not guilty,” because——well, because——Popgun don’t look like a man who would concoct such a sanguinary mixture as powder. He hasn’t the air of a ruffian. His thoughts don’t run in that explosive channel. I’m something of a physiognomist.

Snowball. Mahogany! What’s dat?

Timorous. A physiognomist. I judge by the face——

Party on right. O, humbug!

Blower. Mr. Foreman, I protest. This attempt to stifle the voice of Justice is a high-handed crime.

Snowball. Yes, sar; it’s bigamy, kleptomania, arson.

Precise. Order, gentlemen.——Go on, Mr. Timorous.

Timorous. But then I haven’t any particular opinion in the matter; and if you want me to change——

Blower. Silence, traitor!

Snowball. Shut up yer tater trap.

Punster. Suppose you sit, for a change. (Pulls him down to seat.)

Timorous. Anything to oblige.

Precise. Mr. Jolly.

Jolly (rising). My turn, hey? Mr. Foreman, and gentlemen of the jury,——

Gentlemen, Popgun is a dangerous man. I am for his annihilation. He is a second Guy Fawkes. Behind his shop are concealed those explosive materials destined to spread havoc and destruction in an innocent neighborhood. We might spare him if the possible destruction of a thousand or two of his immediate neighbors was the